The Mark of Herperia
by LivingReceiver10-31-88
Summary: A story that is both a tribute and a satire of HP Lovecraft's dark, twisted universe. It has been modified to fit a personal experience of mine (thus a transition to a West Coast setting instead of a traditional New England one) and was one of the most fun and challenging pieces I have ever written. I hope that it's as gratifying to you as it has been for me. Enjoy!


The Mark of Herperia

By: M.G. Minecraft

It is by unknown means that I'm able to relay this now, for I am so close to the brink of madness that I fear every waking morning whether I'll be able to hold onto what shred of my sanity remains. Have I, perhaps, already gone insane; and I'm voicing my testament to listeners who exist entirely within the confines of my own mind? To the credence of this possibility, I cannot say; nor can I validly dispute it. I can only attempt with all my remaining vigour to make an account of what has brought me to this tragic state while a marginal degree of my coherent mind still remains. My ordeal began rather pleasantly (as every precedence to a great horror begins) on a lovely April morning while on a spirited ride into the fine harbour city of San Francisco. The mining boomtown of days past was now a quite enjoyable destination to seek out for the occasional gay romp. And vigourous gay romping is what I had in mind for this fine day, I can tell you. The train rolled in to the station and I exited onto Embarcadero, the sprawling street that snakes around the East end of the peninsula.

Oh, to be in San Francisco once again! Though I have been here many times before, it always fills my heart with immense delight and wonder every time I return. From the thicket of densely intercrossed city streets that constantly change in incline to its wondrous views of the bay permeating with the thick sea breeze. Its delightful seaside cafés filled with every flavour the ocean has to offer; its exquisite and longstanding Victorian manors that have persevered through the ages even through the mighty earthquake that jostled the city not a few decades ago; and its bustling central avenues like Market, Geary, Van Ness, and Broadway, teeming with street merchants, performers, and musicians creating with their instruments a vibrant score for the city. Even the vagrant folk are charming; always making welcoming gestures and saying kindly things like "Good day to you sir, jolly good day!" or "Yes, how are you enjoying our fine city on this splendid afternoon!" or perhaps "Have you a loose coin by chance? That you might spare so I might get a drop of spirits, if you please." The radiance and aspect of the city can be felt around every corner.

I eventually settled in my aimless wanderings at a quaint little corner bar and drank merrily with the most sophisticated and genteel sort. My fellow bar patrons were heard to be speaking of quite refined topics in literature, religion, and social tolerance all the while sipping Chardonnay and stroking their dogs whom accompanied them on their afternoon of leisure. As I drew back on my mug of ale, I reminisced to times of old when a miner in this region might have gotten off a particularly long shift of hard labour from the dark, unforgiving bowels of the Earth and would find his way to the grand city by the bay in search of comforting respite. Might he find his way into a drinking establishment such as this? Though, no doubt, the company he would find in a cantina of his time would be vastly different from the sort inhabiting this locale at present: a rowdy, saltier bunch to be sure; with a great deal more spunk and livelihood. The type of men who would look upon these modern patrons quite queerly, I would imagine.

As the drink took greater effect upon my manner, I started to consider what other pleasures a gruff old miner might be in search of in the city. Might he seek out a theatre and attend a show, or perhaps a gambling house to wager his pay in a game of chance, or, if he was feeling rather anxious, he might search for one of the city's many fine East Asian pleasure houses. Oh, the possibilities; how delicious they were! I polished off my drink and headed out the door to see where my whims and fancies might take me. Up the street a ways I came across a business sign reading "Da-gon's Oriental Massage"; and I knew I had found one such pleasure house. I rushed hurriedly across the street in wonderment of what delightful, exotic beauty lay in wait for me within this building; yet as I reached the door, I was suddenly filled with a profound feeling of panic and mental distress. I opened the door and ascended the stairs and could feel a lurking fear hanging in the air at the top of the staircase, as if some indefinable evil lay in wait to consume my very soul, yet I did not turn back. I reached the top of the stairs and I wondered if I was letting the persuasive influence of the strong spirits I had ingested sabotage my better judgment, for I couldn't rid myself of the feeling that I was walking into great peril. Any uncertainty and nervousness I may have been feeling instantly ceased, however, once the ravishing proprietor of this business presented herself before me. I must say, she was a stunning example of all the beauty and mystique the East had to offer.

"What's your pleasure, sir," she said with a cunning sneer definitive of all those from the Orient.

"Ah! My fine lady; the many and varied desires I seek from you this day!" I said with rambunctious fervor.

"Hhhmmmm, like what?" she proceeded to inquire.

"Well, my beauty, I wish for you to use your masterful hands to conduct a concerto of bliss upon my back and all throughout my body so that each of my nerves is at the mercy of your exquisite touch; I wish to drink from the golden chalice God hath bestowed to every woman to quench the dire thirst of every man; I wish to have the swelling of all my radiant heat and desire pressed forth into your tender pocket until I'm ready to relinquish all my vitality into your quivering, wanting receptacle," I declared.

"Well, okay; you pay now, alright?"

"But of course, my dear," I said, handing her the necessary payment.

She showed me to the baths and after an invigorating wash-up, I made my way to our designated room. It was a quaint and inviting little room with a paneled mirror on the back wall; about a foot or so adjacent from the mirrored wall was the neatly made bed with a nightstand set in between. Above the bed on the side wall was a rather provocative portrait of two lovers in embrace, as if to say to any of the uninitiated that this establishment was not quite for the sole purpose of therapeutic massage as its sign outside might indicate.

The service's mistress then returned to the room and asked, "Is the room to your liking, sir?"

"Splendid, my fine lady, quite splendid," I responded appreciatively.

"Would you like some tea, perhaps?" she offered.

"Oh that would be lovely, my dear. I would love some, if you wouldn't mind."

"Not at all. Just a moment, sir," she said and departed again.

I sat in wait for the tea and tried to calm myself of the giddy anticipation of what lay in store for me in a brief moment's time. To ease this near insatiable desire, I retrieved from within my discarded jacket a small bottle of rum which I had brought with me. I took a hearty swig, felt its soothing effect as it melted through my body, and comfortably receded into the couch in the corner of the room. I was bare aside from my bath towel and could feel the cool air crawl briskly across my gently rising and falling chest. While in this most alleviating state, I was suddenly reminded once more of that great horror I had felt when first entering this place. From the great ease and calm I felt now, it seemed like a horrid nightmare I had had long ago; yet its vile resonance could not be ignored. I studied the room's reflection in the mirror across from me, as though it beheld a more telling view of the malicious energy I now suspected lay in wait for me. No such dark forces could be witnessed, however, yet I still felt the evil; as if it were creeping all around me like rats in the walls.

"Is everything alright?" I suddenly heard from the door.

I pounced with a start and turned to see the mistress had returned with the tea.

"Oh, yes; I um—" I hastily stammered, "I'm—I'm quite alright. Thank you so much for bringing the tea dear!"

"You're very welcome, sir," she said with a resounding air of covert deceit. She set the tea down on the nightstand and poured me a cup; which I then drank to relieve my nerves which had been provoked yet again.

"Wellll, would you like to lie down now and I begin massage?" she propositioned.

"Oh, well, alright then," I said, removing my towel and lying facedown upon the bed.

She pressed her hands to my back and worked into my tender muscles with the diligence of a true master. Through her soothing motions, I was able to regress deep within my mind and allow all manner of the physical world to dissipate. Slowly and quite wonderfully, I was carried along by a harmonious, pale vessel through the mists of the world that once was; to the lands of resplendent beauty that are only visited in dreams and are all but forgotten again upon waking.

"You feel good?" my lovely guide inquired.

"Mmmmm, quite so," I said in fond approval.

"Why don't you turn over," she said while removing her garment, "and I make you feel really good."

"Well, if my lady thinks it is best," I said, turning over and relieving myself of a growing discomfort, "then I guess I ought to."

She then moved her head downward and I sailed my mighty galleon into the gaping port of Saigon. How lovely were the warm and gentle currents which lapped pleasingly along my ship's bow. It was so benevolent in that fine port that my sea bearing lads were quite anxious to depart the ship; but being the captain, I gave strict orders for all to maintain their posts. We cast off from the harbour shortly thereafter; for we had a long day of adventuring ahead of us and we would not be dropping anchor here.

"You do that right good, my dear," I said admirably, "I thank you graciously for your proficient abilities."

"It was my pleasure," she said, lusciously running her tongue across her lips, "so, what would the gentleman like me to do now?"

"Mmmm, whatever you would like, my love."

"Aaaahhh, whatever I would like," she said with that strange, unnerving tone I heard before. She then rose up off the bed all the while facing me and with her head hung low, as if she were a prowling feline drawing back into concealing shadow in preparation for a mortal strike.

"Well, I'll tell you what I'd like," she said while moving along the side of the bed, though in a very queer manner. It was rather like gliding, as though she were a phantom drifting with the mists over a cryptic lake. I moved back from the top of the bed and the already dim room seemed to grow ever more dark as she slipped into the bed as if she were lowering herself into a bath brimming with a putrid, black elixir which enveloped her entire body.

"I would like," she said while parting her knees, "a kiss. A very sweet kiss."

"Well…I—eh-em," I said through wrenching fear which had gnarled itself tightly around my stomach, "I…I would be most happy to; if it would please you."

"Oh, it would please me. It would please me greatly," she said with venom on her tongue.

I moved up into position and peered down towards the chasm that lay before me. Though it was my intention to consume this morsel, I feared that _it_ might end up consuming me. I was reluctant to proceed but, not wanting to disappoint my mistress, I swallowed my inhibitions and descended upon her deepest crevices. My first taste was rather sweet, and it beckoned me in further to relish in her forbidden delights. However, once I had made it past the delectable outer coating, its true flavour began to greet my palate. Rare and quite bitter, the initial taste is rather disagreeable; but through continuous indulgence, a very primal fondness is soon acquired. You taste the raw flesh as not can be sampled from the outside and you begin to feel like a ravenous beast feasting on a fresh kill with all its fine muscle and insides available for your consumption. The barbaric hunger for blood soaked meat becomes intoxicating.

"Aaahh, that feels nice," she responded in approval.

"Glad you enjoy it, my love," I said.

"Mmmm, go deeper!"

"If you insist, than I shall."

I explored further, enlivened by her radiant desire; joyfully unaware of the malicious evil that lay within. It lay in wait deep inside the cavern ready to deliver its poisonous sting to any unscrupulous intruder.

"Go deeper, please," she begged.

I pressed on, tempting my fate evermore. The beast in the cave crept along the walls in a horrible mass; secreting its vile fluids from festering spores.

"Deeper, uuuhh," further still, and I was soon at the mercy of this horrendous, unholy entity, "taste it…yes, take my essence!"

The beast struck silently and without notice; engulfing its vulnerable prey. At no point being aware of my attacker, I ingested its poison in helpless ambiguity. Through my tender kiss for the lady I graced with divine tribute, she had passed on to me the appalling mark which now stained my very soul. She let forth a wailing moan of deep satisfaction and bliss for which, at the time, I could not identify its true intent. Naturally, I had merely thought it was a reaction from the stimuli, yet in careful retrospect I saw it was a triumphant cry of the seizure of my livelihood.

"Oooohhh, that was great," she said in an exhaustive, gratified manner.

"Quite splendid for me as well, my lady," I said while easing down, but still unknowingly delivering soft kisses to the vessel of my ultimate demise.

"Uh, what do you have in mind now?"

"Well, um," I said while reaching for my tea and taking a cleansing sip, "Aaahh, how about…you turn over, on your elbows and knees. And buck up for a good rogering. How's that sound?"

"Mmmm, very well," she said, adhering to my command.

"Oh, but one moment, if you please."

"Yes?"

"Might you have a French letter by chance? I wouldn't want my knight going into battle without his armour."

"Oh, um…yes I have one," she said, apparently surprised at my request.

"Would you retrieve one dear, I would be most grateful."

"Alright then," she said, getting up and going to the nightstand. She fumbled about in the drawer as I sat in wait with my little fellow at ready for his dressing.

"You know, you don't have to wear one. I very clean, no worries," she said, trying to feign me of her soiled purity.

"Oh no, I insist. I'm always quite keen on safety and responsibility," I said, as though my virtue were still intact.

"Well, if it pleases you," she said, rather disappointed.

She removed it from its packaging and applied it to my affair, then returned to her former position. I entered that damned place yet again, but this time the horrid abomination could not strike. It recognized an adversary it could not vanquish, so it remained in hiding with its fangs retracted. A secondary attack would not be necessary, however, for its latent poison need only modest exposure for a dire effect. After a bit of delightful prodding at her nether regions, I disembarked and she assisted in setting off the geyser across her bosoms which signified the conclusion of our merry engagement.

"Ohhh—ohhh, my dear; good heavens!" I stammered.

"Aahhh! You gave a lot!" she said, quite pleased with herself.

"Uuhhh…I hope it wasn't too much for you love. I know it can be terribly frightful once it gets going; spattering about and all."

"It's quite alright; you needn't worry about my abilities in handling a gentleman's seed. I am rather experienced, you know."

"Mmm, quite proficient you are, my dear. A good show, I must say," I said while rising to retrieve my clothes. She put hers back on as I did mine; then we met eye to eye standing on either side of the bed.

"Well, it pains me to leave the company of such a gracious and warming host as yourself; but such is the nature of this business," I said reluctantly.

"Indeed."

"We share such intimate passions; passions that ought not to be known amongst casual meeting strangers. And then depart on the same night as our jovial meeting perhaps never to see each other again. I know the acts of this play and I perform my role without objection; but still, you must see, it can be quite maddening from time to time. Especially when being treated by such a venerable dame as I have been tonight."

"Ooohh, you flatter me," she said with a charming laugh; then she reached forth rather suddenly placing a warm palm upon my cheek. It was quite nice at first; but became discomforting as it began to heat up. At the same time, the light around her darkened again—as if she were absorbing all the light from the room and channeling it into her hand which was growing white hot—until all that could be seen of her sweet face were her eyes which gleamed in the darkness like the surface of a pool of water at the bottom of a dark, abysmal well. I tried to pull away, but I was firmly held in place; as though her hand had melted and fused with my very flesh. The unbearable heat soon spread and I could feel it throughout my entire body. My senses and perception of my surroundings were henceforth completely overcome and all I knew was that heat—that burning, damnable hellfire!—and all I could do was stare back at those two, ashy gray orbs which shone back at me from the depths of utter oblivion.

"You won't have to worry about leaving me," I suddenly heard from that pit of searing pain and eternal darkness, "because soon, you will be mine forever. I've scarred you with my mark and now you're mine!"

I let forth a shriek of indelible terror which echoed out into the vast emptiness that stretched out before me until I was deafened by the blaring of my futile wail and I fell into merciful unconsciousness. For untold aeons, I swam in the waters of the Great Abyss; gliding with the currents where space and time are as fluid as the water that carries you. Drifting…wandering…waiting…until…

Shadows passed by me like black ravens jutting through the sky; muffled voices and scarcely recognizable sounds were heard; a cool gust suddenly hit my awakening skin and the familiar, rhythmic jolts of motion ran through my legs; the distinct scent of the sea breeze filled my nostrils as the veil of obscurity was removed and my surroundings melted into reality. I was back on the streets of the city; walking along just as I had been before. Safe, unharmed, undisturbed, and quite oblivious. How I arrived back on the streets remains as great a mystery to me now as it did then. How did I escape that lair of horror or, what's more, had I even been there to begin with? My recollection of the ordeal is quite concise, but what's to say it really happened? How was I to know it wasn't just a mad fantasy I may have fabricated while squandering in a drunken haze? I tried to think of what kind of physical evidence I might've retained from such a frightful encounter, but was unable to conceive of any. The only form of proof—minuscule as it was—was to return to that place of abomination and seek out the terrible evil which had ravaged my manner so drastically.

After identifying my current location, I soon was able to return to the bar where I had been and set about in the direction of the pleasure house as best I could remember. I didn't remember travelling very far to get there, so I imagined I could find my way back with relative ease. Though, after turning down several streets and finding the building facades barren of the sign I remembered seeing; a deep-seeded fear crept over me and I hastened my search. I had remembered seeing it so clearly—from just across the street—drawing me towards it in primal temptation. But whether this had been a beaconing of the city's charms or a desire which had manifested itself from within me, I was yet to discover. I tried to recall precisely where it had been, but attempting to remember such distinct characteristics in my distraught state only brought on a torrent of maddeningly varied details that left me in a disoriented haze. The building could not be found and I was left to return to the train station wondering if the earth had swallowed it back up; pulling it back down to the black, corrosive pools of dark Materia from whence it was conceived. I returned to my domicile late in the night and set my head to my pillow in the hope of escaping the nightmare. In rest, the vile resonance of that day faded from consciousness and I was blessed with rebirth upon waking.

When I awoke I was still rather shaken; but after a moment of introspect I was able to reconcile my memories of the previous day and alleviate my lingering anxieties. Where I had been and what exactly I had done was still quite a mystery to me, but I was able to chock it up as merely a condition of my rambunctious and careless drinking habits. Thinking back and forgoing the dreadful details which had caused me such disturbance; I was able to properly realize what a delightful day it had actually been and revel in my good fortune of making the acquaintance of such a dashingly beautiful lass. No longer was my reckoning of her mired by feelings of corruption and deviousness as it had been the night before; but rather absolute fondness which brought with it rushing feelings of warmth whenever I'd think of her ginger smile, or perhaps her charming demeanor, or the softness of her skin pressed to mine, or any of the innumerable splendid things I remembered so lovingly of that ravishing lady of the Orient. That vision of her as the ghastly necromancer from before was now but a fading memory. Surely my safety and stability now was an indication that my previous impression of her was a vast overreaction.

I set about my day thereafter in rather tranquility with only the most admirable remembrances of that evening in mind. Already I was thinking of a repeat visit to seek out new pleasures of the night; and when pondering such endeavors I'd be reminded of my previous encounter which brought prickling sensations—like sharp, rapid snowflakes—to my lower extremities. Though this frivolous daydreaming only succeeded in masking the insidious maliciousness that lay in wait for me. With the passing of several cycles of the sun, the dark seeds within me began to sprout. It started one waking morning with a soreness I felt deep within my throat; though quite mild and only minutely bothersome. A meager discomfort that had all but vanished by midday. Yet this aching tenderness was there to greet me the following morning, and again the morning after; increasing in severity and longevity each time. With the coming of night I would lay to rest, praying for rejuvenation to occur within the course of the night granting alleviation to my ailments; but that strained tearing of my inner throat came back to wake me every morning.

I rose one morning in a great coughing fit, with each cough sending streaks of clenching pain all along my windpipe. I thrashed about a good while until I could get a cooling breath in to soothe my ravaged inner tendons; and I wondered in a state of horrible distress at what my condition might be. In the course of deep consolidation, my thoughts drifted back to my evening with that mysterious enchantress; though no longer were they thoughts of merriment and reverence. My initial suspicions of her sordid intent returned to my consciousness and all her baneful evil which I had managed to suppress manifested in vivid detail. And yes; I saw it! That glare! In the darkness of my tightly shut eyes I could see it now. I thought I had cast it out but it remained eternally etched in the inner sanctum of my mind. Radiating with its infernal gleam.

"You will be mine forever!" I heard whispered in the darkness, "I've scarred you with my mark and now you're mine!"

I jumped to my feet—breaking free of her trance inducing glare which haunted my mind—and paced about my room in a cold sweat. Had I not escaped her malicious evil? Was it now tearing itself free from within me? Good Lord, what had I invited into my body? I caught a glimpse of my haggard reflection in my mirror and turned to face it. I looked into the distraught eyes of the bag of nerves which stared back at me. Was I only seeing a battered facsimile of myself on the brink of madness or was there a more astute knowing deep within that glare? The man looking back could see into me; he could see the dark and eternal corruption seeping throughout my body, poisoning and corroding all it touched. Then, a look of unimaginable horror overcame his face as his glare set upon my mouth where the claws of the beast dug into my esophagus and plied for escape. I lunged at my mirror with my mouth agape staring into the malignant pit, but could not see past the shadow over my mouth concealing the hideous apparition within. I retrieved a torch and shone it into my mouth and—OH DEAR GOD!—there it was! The harrowing Mark of Herperia! And I was left screaming and insane!

_-For Joanna Angel and all the demented fun she brings out in people_


End file.
